


To Pieces

by ThornWild



Series: Moments [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Episode: s06e09 Smashed, Episode: s06e10 Wrecked, F/M, Porn, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornWild/pseuds/ThornWild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened between Smashed and Wrecked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Pieces

He’s gazing up at her with his blue eyes. He has his arms around her waist, his cool hands moving over her form, feeling her. His lips are parted, his tongue snaking out to wet his lips every so often, and his brow is glistening with sweat. They are both fully clothed, except for the place where they’re joined together, where she can feel him, moving within her.

The look on his face is multi-faceted. Beneath the lust and the rage and the sheer smugness at finally having her exactly where he wants her, lies a softer expression. His eyes are filled with adoration. Some part of her finds this deeply unsettling, and she looks away.

He grips her hips tightly with his hands, and she gasps as he picks up speed and intensity, pistoning into her. She leans on his chest to keep herself upright, not sure what to do with herself, not sure what her eyes should be telling him, how her body should be responding. She’s quivering, inside and out. She had no idea how much she wanted this – had no idea until he was inside her of how much she needed _him_. She’s so close now, so close to her release, and she digs her fingers into his shirt, crying out as this feeling of bliss fills her to the brim.

It’s obvious that he’s been holding back, waiting for this moment, because now he pulls her close, and rolls them over, placing her under him, her back to the cold concrete floor, and as she comes he locks his lips to hers, groaning into her mouth as with one, two, three thrusts he comes as well.

She stares up at him, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what just happened, what she just did. He’s smiling. He’s still inside her. She can feel him twitch there, and she suddenly feels a little bit sick. Scrabbling around her with her right hand she finds a wood splinter. She pushes the tip of it against his chest, and he looks down at it, his smile dissipating.

‘Huh,’ he says. ‘Not quite what I had in mind, love… Unless this is some sort of kink?’ He looks into her eyes again, one eyebrow raised.

‘Get off!’ she growls through gritted teeth.

He pulls out of her, sits up on his haunches, and looks at her, head cocked to one side.

‘More fighting, then?’ he says. ‘Fine by me. Have at it.’

She sits up slightly. Her breath is still coming in ragged pulls, and her heart is pounding in her chest. ‘What… what was…?’

‘It’s called shagging, Buffy,’ he tells her, patiently, tucking himself away inside his denims. ‘People do it sometimes, it’s a lot of fun.’

She furrows her brow and clenches her jaw, and then she lunges at him with the stake.

‘Oi, none of that!’ Spike grabs hold of the wrist holding the stake, twisting slightly. She gasps with pain and drops the stake. ‘Now, what would you go and do that for? It’s not on, love.’

Holding both her wrists in one hand, he lifts the other to her face, gently caressing her temple with his finger tips. She glares at him defiantly.

‘Let me go!’ she utters hoarsely.

‘Not bloody likely,’ he replies. ‘Not done with you yet, darling.’ His hand slithers up her skirt. When he touches her, she can’t help but close her eyes, and she releases a small whimper. 

‘Oh, Buffy,’ he whispers. ‘There are so many more things I can do to you… If you let me.’ He pulls his hand back, and releases her wrists from his grip.

Her eyes fly open and she stares at him in surprise. This is unexpected. She could get up and walk out right now, go home… But something holds her back, something is making her stay and she doesn’t move a muscle, waiting for him to say or do something. His eyes have that soft look now, the look that says ‘I love you’, and even though she doesn’t love him, even though she can’t… She’s drawn to him. Drawn to his blue eyes, his face, the cheekbones that could cut glass, the curve of his brow, his lips… 

She springs into action, pushing him to the floor and straddling him once more. Then she kisses him, deeply and thoroughly. She nibbles at his lower lip, licks his neck and his earlobe. 

‘Buffy…’ he groans. ‘You… Your clothes… You’re wearing too many clothes…’

Once again, he reverses their positions in one fluid movement, and begins to undress her. His hands wander across her skin, caressing and squeezing and tickling, exposing her to the chill of the air as he goes, and she shivers. Soon, he’s removed her top and revealed her breasts. A shudder goes through her body as he leans down to lick one of her nipples. His mouth is cool, and her nipple immediately stands on attention at the touch.

He’s fumbling with her skirt now. He begins to kiss and lick a trail down her stomach. She whimpers and arches her back, lifting her arse off the floor a bit. He removes the skirt, and her by now very wet panties. Then he looks up at her face, his gaze steady. 

‘You’re magnificent,’ he whispers. ‘I need to taste you!’

And before she can say anything, or even react to his choice of words, he’s positioned himself between her legs, holding onto her thighs, and now his tongue is doing things to her she never even thought possible. Not that she’s never been on the receiving end of oral sex, but the vampire’s cold tongue stimulates her in ways she could hardly imagine before, and now his fingers are working expertly inside her as well, and her entire body quivers, and she cries out. Both her hands are in his hair, pulling at his platinum curls, and she’s pleading with him.

‘Oh, God… Please! I can’t… It’s too much, I can’t… _Fuck_ , how are you _doing_ that? I… Oh…’ Her words crumble into complete nonsense and she comes, repeatedly, her entire body shuddering violently.

He pulls her close, into his lap, facing him, and cradles her naked body in his arms, burying his nose in her hair and breathing deep. ‘You taste like blood and life and heat, Buffy. And your scent… It’s intoxicating… Oh, Slayer… You see? This is where you belong… This is who you are, pet.’ He kisses her, and through the fabric of his jeans she can feel that he’s getting hard again, and although she’s exhausted and sore, she wants more. Needs it. Needs _him_.

She begins to undress him, slowly. She keeps her eyes fixed to his. His chest is heaving beneath her hands, as though he really needs that air, but she knows he doesn’t. Her hands are trembling to begin with. She tells herself it’s due to exhaustion, because she’s overwhelmed, but she feels an excited flutter in her gut at the idea of seeing his body. Removing his shirt reveals slender muscles and pale skin. Bruises are forming on his torso, from their fight, but somehow this only serves to make him sexier. He’s battle-worn, dangerous, and so hot. Metaphorically speaking.

‘Buffy… Your skin… It’s so warm…’ He nuzzles her neck, kisses it, scrapes his teeth over her jugular, and she feels suddenly apprehensive and pulls back a ways, glaring at him suspiciously.

As though he can read her mind, he cocks his left eyebrow and says pointedly, ‘Do you really think I’m going to bite you?’

‘I don’t know _what_ you’re gonna do, Spike,’ she says, quietly. Her heart is pounding in her chest.

Spike’s tongue flicks out of his mouth, and he runs it along his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘I’d be lying if I said part of me doesn’t want to,’ he says, a smirk playing on his lips. ‘I can smell it, you know, your blood. I can hear it pumping away. Your pulse, the beat of your heart, my ears are full of it.’ He taps her shoulder rhythmically, perfectly mimicking the pace of her heart. ‘But I’m not going to. I wouldn’t do that to you, you have my word, love.’

‘That doesn’t count for a whole lot,’ she counters.

‘What, you trusted me to keep Dawn safe, but you won’t trust me now?’

‘You couldn’t hurt Dawn.’

‘I can’t hurt _you_ , Buffy. For one, if I tried I’d probably be dead before I even had the chance to get a taste, and anyway… I don’t want to. Why would I?’ He puts his arms around her neck and pulls her toward him. She feels his tongue flick out to lick her earlobe. ‘I finally have you,’ he whispers. ‘Why would I spoil that?’

‘You don’t have me, Spike,’ she says, defiantly. ‘You’ll never have me. This… this is… I’m not yours.’

‘You willing to put money on that, Slayer?’

And then he’s got her on her back again, holding both her wrists above her head with one hand, pinning them to the floor. He lifts her legs up, hooking them over his shoulders, and unbuttons his jeans again. She’s trembling with need and, hating herself, she welcomes him inside.

‘You’re… so hot…’ he groans. ‘Like fucking a volcano…’ He kisses her knee, bites down on the inside of her thigh. 

Buffy doesn’t say a word. She stares up at him, wondering for the millionth time tonight what she’s doing, why she’s letting him do this, and why she’s enjoying it. Why she’s moaning and whimpering, why she’s arching her back and pushing back against him, willing him to go deeper still.

Her legs slide down off his shoulders, and he comes down to her, pressing their bodies close together. He’s touching every part of her he can reach, loving her with his hands, with his lips and his tongue and his teeth. One hand is in her blonde hair, stroking and pulling. He slows down for a moment, looking into her eyes. He’s trembling. He must be so close…

‘You are so beautiful,’ he breathes. ‘You’re a dream. Something out of a fairy tale. And you’re _mine_!’ he growls possessively. 

And at this moment, though she will vehemently deny it to herself later, she knows it’s true. Right at this moment, she belongs to him, and he belongs to her. He picks up the pace again, thrusting into her and hitting just the right spot, the spot that starts her juices flowing, that makes her tighten up inside, that makes her pant and moan and whimper, and writhe beneath him like a serpent, slippery and hot and sweaty and aching with the need for release. 

And then, at last, it comes, for both of them. Buffy falls to pieces, arms flailing and toes curling, as she cries out, wordlessly. She wonders fleetingly if this is some kind of special vampire gift, to be able to hold off until she’s ready, and she tries to remember if Angel did, but through the haze, she can’t even conjure up his image in her mind. All she sees is Spike, his eyes wide open, staring into hers, his lips parted, a loud groan emanating from between them.

Then it’s over, and he collapses on top of her, nuzzling her neck, breathing unnecessarily and heavily into her ear. Her hand moves almost of its own accord, up into his hair, and she runs her fingers through his disheveled locks, massaging his scalp. He lets out a contented mewling sound. Propping himself up on his elbow, he looks into her eyes again, smiling, and touches her face with the finger tips of his free hand. ‘This must be what heaven feels like,’ he murmurs, sleepily.

Buffy looks away, swallowing. ‘No,’ she whispers, ‘it’s not.’


End file.
